Miss Seireitei
by NieveDrop
Summary: Soul Society has been shattered by civil war; yet, an unexpected and tragic love blooms between Ichigo & Rukia-strangers from distant lands. In its aftermath, their doomed romance can only lead to abandonment and great sacrifice. AU based on "Miss Saigon" & "Madama Butterfly".
1. Return to Duty

_**A/N:**_A Bleach AU based on the musical & operatic tragedies _Miss Saigon_ & _Madama Butterfly_. It will follow the main elements of the original source material, and some characters may be OOC. Happy 2013!

**Disclaimer: **_Bleach_ is the property of Tite Kubo; _Miss Saigon_ is by Claude-Michel Schonberg & Alain Boublil with lyrics by Boublil & Richard Maltby, Jr.; _Madama Butterfly_ is by Giacomo Puccini with a libretto by Luigi Illica & Giuseppe Giacosa, based on a story by John Luther Long.

* * *

**_Place: KarakuraTown_**

No ticker-tape parade.

No welcome home victory kiss.

No gratitude for service.

Instead, student protests and disdainful or oblivious looks met Sergeant Kurosaki's return from his tour of duty.

His large duffel bag slung over his shoulder, Kurosaki Ichigo exited the express train from Tokyo. A misty morning rain covered his hair and clothing in a fine dew. Karakura Town. Though everything looked the same, his hometown felt different. As he wandered past the familiar shops, he could not shake the feeling that he was outside of his body looking in. He followed the same path he had walked since his youth, but there was none of the comfort that usually filled his heart as he stepped closer to home. Now, his heart felt hollow.

What felt like a lifetime ago, he entered the Corps with passion, pride, and honor. He had also been a strong fighter: strong in body, mind, and character. And like his father, he served on behalf of his people as a chance to protect those who were weaker. Ichigo viewed the capture of the Seireitei by Aizen and the Espada similarly to the school bully beating up the class nerd because he was different. In fact, it reminded him of the fights he and Chad would find themselves in as kids. If he didn't let the bullies have the upper hand then, he sure as hell wasn't going to let them have the upper hand now.

But over the course of his two-year tour, the passion, pride, and honor slowly drained from him. He saw the pointless politics of a corrupted Central 46 on one side and the machinations of a madmen and his invented army on the other. None of it made sense. None of it seemed real.

As his mind filled with self-doubt, his body automatically directed him onward. Step by step, Ichigo trudged closer to his destination. It was not unlike the silent, apprehensive approaches through the seemingly vacant neighborhoods of the faraway land he just left. The usually friendly, bustling demeanor of his present surroundings appeared vacant and cold.

Taking a deep breath, he looked up to find the "Kurosaki Clinic" sign still stood proudly on the front of the building-perhaps the last object maintaining any pride. It felt strange knocking on the door to his own home. But without knowing whether he would return, it was senseless to have brought the house key with him to war.

War. He had been at war. Now he was back where his sisters knew nothing but peace. Of course they surely knew _of_ war, but the knowledge that it existed failed to compare to the experience of living it. They were so young, so innocent. He needed to protect them from knowing war.

"Onii-chan! You're home."

Her cheerful voice brought Ichigo's eyes from the pavement to view the blooming young woman standing before him. Two years brought a lot of change to his baby sister, at least on the outside.

"Hello Yuzu," he greeted her simply. Though he intended his tone to hold warmth, he knew it fell flat. He was grateful the girl overlooked his shortcomings.

"Come inside. Oh, it is so good to have you here. I've missed you." Her small arms wrapped around his waist. He rested his head on top of hers wishing he could return her affection with as much fervor.

Ichigo hesitantly crossed the threshold, allowing his duffel bag to drop in a dull thud to the floor. Yuzu, true to her ideal homemaker character, began sorting through the bag for any clothes to wash.

Looking across from her place in front of the television set, Karin called, "Hey Ichi-nii! Long time no see." She gave a lopsided smile, and when he returned it, her attention reverted to the football game on TV.

Both sisters acted as if he was returning from a semester at university or a vacation abroad. The fact neither offered their empathy or understanding to the serviceman unsettled him. Their display of casual indifference was puzzling, at best.

The greeting from his father was no less awkward; he simply shared a knowing nod. Isshin had once stood in his shoes. A renowned Divisional Captain of special forces, he had led operations against some of the greatest foe in recent history. His father well recalled his days fighting in the Great Dimensional War. Although that war brought much glory to the captain, the veteran understood there was no glory attached to the present conflict. It was a bitter appraisal he would not share with his son.

After a dinner of monosyllabic answers to his sisters' questions about the mysterious Soul Society, Ichigo joined the family in the living room to watch television. Karin turned on the set. The evening news broke the uncomfortable silence that swirled in a fog about the space.

Every image that flashed across the screen was a misrepresentation.

An inaccurate invention of the brainwashed media.

A lie.

Ichigo tensed and shifted as he realized they knew nothing of what was occurring across the Senkaimon. These stories, these images, these _lies_ had nothing to do with him or what he had been fighting for...

If only _he_ knew what he had been fighting for.

* * *

As the weeks in Karakura passed, Ichigo's feeling of uselessness grew exponentially. The simple tasks of waking up, brushing his teeth, and getting dressed were challenging. Interacting with his family was a lost cause. Finding a task, a project that provided fulfillment and passion seemed out of the question. Wherever he went, people milled about their daily lives as if nothing out of the ordinary was happening in the word. A shroud of oblivion wrapped itself around the town of Karakura. Could it be all of Japan was this unaware of the raging fire of tyranny ready to eat the Seireitei whole? How could nobody realize an entire dimension hung in a delicate balance?

These thoughts led Ichigo to break out in a cold sweat. He wouldn't stand for the injustice. Even if the entire world stood against him, he would continue to fight the good fight. He was a protector. He knew what he had to do.

His bag had barely been unpacked when he was hoisting it back to his shoulder. There was deceit and distortion in the Seireitei, but at least there he felt he had a purpose, even if he didn't yet know what that purpose was. He proudly placed his substitute badge around his neck and pulled a crumpled business card from his coat pocket.

**Quincy Sergeant Ishida Uryu**

**Office of Ambassador Ukitake Jushiro**

**Karakura Embassy ~ The Seireitei, Soul Society**

While the idea of working with a Quincy made him cringe, Ichigo knew Ishida to be a good soldier. Sure, the Seireitei was corrupt, but he needed to do something to prevent the fragile state of his mind from shattering like ice. At least with the Embassy, Ichigo could fight for the Karakurians working to establish peace in the fractured land. It had to feel better than the helplessness he felt as a soldier in the Corps, better than the restlessness he felt as a Karakura civilian. It just had to.

Opening the door, Ichigo set off a small bell. A tough-looking Lance Corporal looked up at the orange-haired man from the recruitment table.

"I'm here to re-up."

Her lips curled up slightly in an understanding smile as she handed him a clipboard. "Please fill out these forms and sign at the bottom. I will collect it when you have completed them."

Upon hearing Ichigo's voice, a second figure joined the recruitment area. "Thank you, Lance Corporal Arisawa. I can take it from here." Uryu clapped Ichigo's shoulder. "Welcome back, Sergeant Kurosaki. Say your goodbyes; we head out in two days."


	2. Escape to the Seireitei

**_A/N: _**Happy Valentine's Day! I'd like to give a special SO (shout out) to the readers in Iceland! I don't know who you are, but thank you for reading.  
If you spot it, this chappy does contain an allusion to one of my favorite writers. Without further ado, your February '13 installment...  
~Snow

**Disclaimer:** I do not own the overarching plot or the characters. Full disclaimer in chappy 1.

* * *

**_Chapter 2: Escape to the Seireitei_**

**_Time: Six months later_****. . .**

**_Place: Outside the Seireitei_**

Her tiny feet pounded the ground as she raced further into the woods. The rapidly beating heart in her chest almost drowned out the explosions in the sky behind her. Once harmless fireworks used for days of celebration flooded the dark night with a distorted rainbow of imminent doom. A sign of change. She could feel the transmutation in the air around her. It was trying to swallow her whole. And for the first time in her life, Kuchiki Rukia felt fear.

Even though Rukia believed she had unrestricted access to the world, the reality was her knowledge of the world was quite small. She did not know of politics and the hunger for power. She knew nothing of how easy it was to corrupt and tempt men.

Her days were spent mostly among the four clan houses between the Rukongai District and the Seireitei. A gentle sister, the stoic grace of her brother-in-law, and the kind friendship of the Shiba family were all see knew, all she needed. It was a simple existence, but she required nothing more. She was secure and happy.

However, neither security nor happiness was something she could maintain within her grasp. Recently, she noticed the rumblings of something big. Though she was unaware of the circumstances, something felt wrong. That sinking feeling in the pit of her stomach began two weeks ago.

* * *

_Rukia happily left her home to spend the afternoon with her weekly visit to the Shibas. Much to the amusement of Kukkaku and Ganju, Kaien had tried to teach her to dance. The natural Kuchiki grace was eclipsed by her shyness against Kaien's bold and informal demeanor. Needless to say, the Shiba siblings were highly entertained at her expense._

_Her raised spirits, which she carried with her during the homeward journey through the fields, were dashed when she returned home to the low, angry tones of her brother and her betrothed. The tones ended abruptly as she opened the shoji doors and entered the room. Rukia looked from one silent man to the other; her innocent features were marred by confusion. A voice finally broke through the tension._

_"You have made your choice. We are done here." Byakuya's cold stare looked down at the other man._

_"You'll regret this," the other snarled._

_"Leave. Now," firmly stated Byakuya._

_The tall suitor stalked through the doors without even a glance back at the petite girl he was intended to wed._

_As he passed her, Rukia felt a small tremor. Her face full of anxiousness, she turned toward her brother and questioned, "Nii-sama?"_

_Byakuya looked down at his young sister. His heart ached to protect her from the inevitable devastation in store for all of them. It was a powerless sentiment. Nothing could be done now; the shift was already in motion. "It is nothing you need to worry about." When he felt his attempt at comfort fell flat, he turned pleadingly to his wife, who had returned to the room at the conclusion of the argument._

_Hisana had just the diversionary tactic. She smiled warmly at the girl before her, "Tell us about your day with the Shibas..."_

* * *

Now that she was running for her life, Rukia wished she had pushed her siblings for some answers.

She had just left her weekly visit with the Shibas when she heard his sharp voice order, "Leave no prisoners."

No, it couldn't be. It couldn't be _him. _How could he turn on their friends like that, the people who had once welcomed him with open arms? Panic instantly filled her. She hid in some low brush until all the footsteps passed. Rukia was torn between going back to help her friends and running to the safety of her home.

The defiant screams of Kukkaku, Ganju, and Kaien met the grunts and yells of the attacking militant force. Shouting into the oncoming dusk, Rukia heard what would be Shiba Kaien's final words: "Never, ever, ever die alone."

The decision was made. There was no longer anything she could do to save her friends; she had to warn her family.

Her muscles were fatigued. She could barely breathe. But her own being did not matter. She had to get home. Byakuya. Hisana. They needed to escape to safety together. If she could just reach them in time, Byakuya would know what to do to keep them safe. The only thing to do was run.

When she saw the billowing smoke rising from their home in the distance, her heart almost stopped beating. In hindsight, her suffering may have been lessened if she had just stopped then. But she still held onto some hope that Byakuya and Hisana had hidden and would be waiting for her return.

However, the sight before her was unlike any Rukia had ever seen. Flames from the Espada Force's ceroes were still burning what rubble remained-still burning two lifeless bodies on the razed ground.

With much trepidation, Rukia approached the barely recognizable forms. Left faceless from the cero attack, the only evidence she had that these were her siblings was the sakura blossom locket held between their burnt hands.

Rukia collapsed to her knees between them; her face raised to the sky in a cry of anguish. As if the heavens heard her cry, they echoed with a deep rumble of thunder. Rukia's tears commingled with the cold rain falling from the sky. She prostrated herself before her dead siblings to place a tender, parting kiss on their joint hands. But when her lips touched them, the remnants of flesh and bone crumbled away into ash.

For what seemed like hours, Rukia lay in that prostrate position between her Byakuya and her Hisana, as if she was willing them to comfort her in her despair. When there were no tears left to shed, Rukia lifted her gaze to the destruction around her. Weakened in body and spirit, it took some effort to take stock of the situation in which she now found herself.

If nothing else, the attack was thorough. Almost nothing could be salvaged.

Watching as the rain extinguished the flames into smoldering piles of debris, Rukia knew there was nothing that could be done with the bodies. Besides, she did not have the heart to attempt to bury them herself. Though their end would be the funeral pyre, Rukia decided to bury the locket under the branches of their sakura tree, the lone life force that survived the attack. The sakura petals, torn from the weight of the pouring rain, fell silently upon the girl and the makeshift memorial.

She walked among the rubble. Like her siblings had been, most of it was unrecognizable. However, sifting through the ashes in the spot where her home had been, Rukia uncovered a photograph of Byakuya and Hisana from their wedding day. The edges were charred, but Rukia much preferred the smiling image of her siblings to the horror a few yards away. Near the location of her bedroom, Rukia found the remains of her stuffed Chappy plushie. Byakuya had given her Chappy the day he married her sister. It was his pledge to love and cherish her as well. Picking up the now one-eared, ashen Chappy, Rukia choked back new tears realizing he had kept his oath until his dying day. The last item was discovered inside a chest that only sustained surface burns. She pulled out the kimono, the only item still pure and untarnished. She remembered the long hours Hisana had spent making it for her. A bitter laugh escaped her. Despite its seemingly useless state, Rukia lovingly folded it and placed it in the satchel she carried. Alongside the photo and Chappy, the satchel contained the only three tangible memories that remained of her siblings, and they represented the only things she owned.

As she surveyed the embers of her home and family for the last time, a single tear fell. Rukia was resolved it would be the last tear she ever shed. They had taken everything from her. With nothing left to lose, there was nothing left to fear. She abandoned her home, fleeing into the rainy night never to look back.

* * *

Inuzuri, befallen with filth and poverty, was located almost on the farthest outskirts on the south side of the Seireitei.

For four days, Rukia aimlessly wandered the slums of Inuzuri, staying close the shadows, stealing sustenance when she could. She was an unobtrusive nobody who belonged nowhere. For four days, she escaped notice of anyone. However, on the eve of the fifth day, she heard his voice, cold and calculating, demanding information from a lowly shopkeeper.

"I'm looking for a girl. Short. Dark hair. Violet eyes," he growled out.

Rukia froze and pressed herself against the crumbling wall in the alleyway. She tried to think if she had ever been down this street before, but the last week of her directionless journey through the Rukon District remained a blur. She held her breath.

"N-n-n-no," answered the frightened man.

"Tsk, tsk, Lieutenant. Are ya still looking for that girl? After six days, she could be anywheres. Maybe even dead in a ditch somewheres," a third voice mused. "It would save us all the trouble, no?" He paused, awaiting a response.

"Piss off."

"My, my, wasting precious time and mouthin' off to yer superior." His playfully goading voice turned deadly serious, "Ya already have ya orders. Get to 'em, _Lieutenant_."

An angry snarl sounded, followed by the displacement of gravel from a pair of heavy footsteps. Rukia waited, unmoving, another ten minutes after the voices stopped before she carefully peeked from out of the alley. Seeing nobody in the street, Rukia dashed off in the opposite direction she had heard them speaking.

* * *

Staying close to the forest as much as she could, Rukia ran all through the night and into the next day. She was even more fatigued than she had been during that initial run from the Shibas' a week ago. In comparison, that was a sprint to this current marathon. However, escape was imperative. Being a specific target, she put anyone around her in danger. Consequently, she did not stop running until she saw the gates of the Seireitei appearing within her line of vision. It was nearly sunset, and Rukia was relieved she would be safely behind the walls before nightfall.

The Seireitei was still the stronghold of Central 46 and Commander Yamamoto. Though the militant opposition attacked at random throughout the Rukongai, they had been unable to breach the city's walls. Rukia could not be searched for within the city gates; she would blend in much as she had her first days in Inuzuri.

Rukia was so intent in the final burst to her destination, she didn't notice the figure exiting the building in front of her. Her forward motion finally stopped as she fell back on her backside.

"Ow," she grunted, slightly dazed from the dual impact.

A deep laugh filled the air. "And they call me the Goddess of Flash."

Rukia looked up. An exotic, slender figure with golden, cat-like eyes and flowing purple hair stood before her. Recognition crossed her face followed by a mix of embarrassment and shock. "P-p-princess Shihoin?"

Yoruichi scrutinized the grimy, scrawny slip of girl in dirty, tattered rags. "Well, well, if it isn't the little Kuchiki Rukia," the dark-skin woman smiled and offered her hand to lift the girl off the ground. "What brings you so far away from your brother's house? Aren't you a bit young to be traveling without a chaperone?"

A dark shadow of pain passed across Rukia's eyes before she lowered them to the ground. "I am seventeen. And I have no home left," Rukia answered simply.

Yoruichi did not press the grieving girl further. She could guess what had occurred, and if her guess was right, the two of them may be the sole survivors of the great noble families. How far the mighty had fallen, losing so much during this civil war.

While she knew to leave the past in the past, Yoruichi could not help but be curious about her fellow princess's future plans. In an attempt to lighten the somber mood, she asked, "And now you plan to make a new home here in the First District?"

"No," Rukia resolutely answered. "In the Seireitei."

"What lofty ambitions." She pushed a little further, "How will you enter, and what do you plan to do once you are there?"

Rukia was caught off-guard. Her sole mission was to run to the safety of the Seireitei; her plans did not extend beyond that. A quieter voice responded, "I suppose I hadn't thought that far."

Yoruichi sized up Rukia; what she lacked in height and voluptuousness, she made up for in grace and those haunting indigo eyes. A Cheshire grin spread across her face, and her eyes practically glowed. "Come with me; I could use your help in carrying some items back. We'll get you cleaned up and fed. Don't worry, I know a way in," she winked. "And I think I can help you out."

Rukia's large indigo eyes filled with sincere gratitude. "I don't think I can ever thank you."

Yoruichi felt a twinge of guilt knowing the dark world she was dragging the young and pure Kuchiki into, but she rationalized there was no other choice for either one of them. This was the only route left for the former nobles. "Don't mention it," she choked out, barely above a whisper. Setting a confident smile on her face to reassure the girl, Yoruichi handed Rukia a crate, beckoned for the girl to follow, and began leading the way.

The surviving member of the Kuchiki clan followed the Shihoin princess into the Seireitei, leaving behind the Rukon District without a second thought of where she had been or what awaited her inside.


	3. Newsflash

**_A/N:_** This was not the originally-intended next chapter; think of it as Part III of the Prologue. For those who know the source material, next month will bring us to its starting point. Hopefully, this chapter will clear up some confusion and questions and not create more. I'm not entirely satisfied with it, but like other things in life that have caused recent dissatisfaction, I need to move forward.

As an AU, there will be OOC-ness; I am not playing by all the Bleach rules. Here, there is no antagonism between the Shinigami & Quincy; Aizen & the Espada's influence does not stretch beyond Soul Society into Hueco Mundo; and Hueco Mundo is not a dimension filled with Hollows (although there _may_ be a cameo appearance). The Vandenreich-ruled Hueco Mundo simply provides a locational need for the progression of the story. Hope you can go with the flow.

Happy St. Patrick's Day! Happy Evacuation Day to my friends & enemy in Massachusetts!

~Snow  
_  
**Disclaimer:**_ No ownership of source material; _see_ Chapter 1 for full disclosure. Further credit to the New York Times, Information Bank Abstracts (1970-76).

* * *

**_Chapter 3: Newsflash_**

**_Time: Meanwhile that afternoon_. . .**

**_Place: Karakura Embassy in the Seireitei_**

Amber eyes angrily scanned the black print on the page.

Seireitei Official Press Release  
Byline: Correspondent Hisagi Shuhei

The peasants of the Rukon District cont-  
inue to resist the majority of pacification  
efforts by Karakurian special forces. The  
peasants' refusal to accept Karakurian aid  
has led Living World residents to question  
whether assistance should be terminated.  
It is reported that Rukongai civilians have  
been targeted by militant Karakurian for-  
ces. Zaraki Kenpachi, Captain of the Joint  
Forces of the Seireitei and Karakura, veh-  
emently denies the allegations as baseless  
rumors. While he admits a 4th Division out-  
post was attacked by friendly fire, Zaraki  
blames the Espada for marking the healing  
center as one of its own.

Prime Minister Kanoji promises continued  
support of Central 46. Although talks of  
military withdrawal are underway, Kanoji  
maintains the purpose of Karakura's invol-  
vement in the armed conflict is to be a  
persuasive presence that remains in Soul  
Society long enough to give the Seireitei  
and nearby districts a reasonable oppor-  
tunity to survive as a free society. Intelli-  
gence reports indicate the Espada over-  
run areas of the Rukongai. Yet, Captain  
Zaraki maintains the combined efforts of  
the Karakura and Seireitei forces hold the  
brutal Espada army at bay outside the ci-  
ty's fortified walls. In fact, a recent con-  
voy of refugees from the 17th West Dis-  
trict was reportedly freed by Central 46  
forces. Central 46 remains expectant it  
can reach an agreement to bring a swift  
end to the armed conflict.

A low growl broke through the silence filling the sparse, but comfortable, officers' barracks in the Ugendo Quarter of the Seireitei. A single picture window overlooked a small carp-filled lake—a normally peaceful oasis in a place of pandemonium. The quiet industry of the room was interrupted by the harsh expression of restlessness. "Can you believe this load of crap?"

A dark-haired man raised his head from the paperwork on his desk. "Hmm?"

"The newest report from Correspondent Hisagi. It's all bullshit."

The report directly contradicted the latest military intelligence indicating the recent advances of the Espada throughout the Rukongai. The Espada's eyes were set on Hokutan as the prime target of their main assault toward the Seireitei. Aizen's forces drew closer by the hour. The information in the files on the sergeant's desk set forth the minutest details, such as Hirasago Daiji is the only food seller left in Kusajishi, zanpakuto shortages and rationing prevent the encamped Karakurian forces from striking back against the Espada, and a recent battle left the small area of Fugai entirely obliterated—the forest razed. Military casualties were nearing tens of thousands. Ichigo could not even estimate the number of civilian casualties in Soul Society. And yet, none of this information made it outside the Embassy doors.

"Kurosaki," the Quincy Sergeant responded with an air of superiority, "you should know the game by now."

Unmoved by Ichigo's sudden flare-up, Ishida returned to preparing a top secret communiqué to Prime Minister Juhabach requesting further assistance at the Karakura officer base near Las Noches. To keep the Espada from spreading into Hueco Mundo, the Vandenreich were eager to aid the contingency from the World of the Living. Like Prime Minister Kanoji of Karakura, the Vandenreich were willing to help anyone trying to contain Aizen's philosophy from reaching other dimensions. However, unlike the Karakurians, the Vandenreich played a vital, but silent, partner in Soul Society's civil war.

Orange brows knitted together with the knowledge of the game. "It's no wonder Karakura is fueled by protests instead of support for us. If they actually knew what was going on here. . ."

Disrupted from his work once again, Uryu sighed. "Then they would fully be aware we cannot regain stability in Central 46 and know for certain the Espada are winning. You really want them demanding our immediate withdrawal, and in effect, guaranteeing our loss?"

Ichigo scowled knowing precisely what that meant. All the citizens of Soul Society would be under Aizen's regime. All of the citizens of Soul Society would be governed by an iron-handed dictator, who allowed no freedom or liberty. In short, the people here would suffer greatly.

Unlike most of his fellow Karakurians, who only saw the media filled with unfounded condescension and disdain toward the residents of Soul Society, Ichigo had caught glimpses of Soul Society's population during his first tour. Similar to many of his recently-graduated classmates, he was drafted by Karakurian forces, ripped from his life in the World of the Living, and dumped in the mysterious Soul Society. This dimension may have been mentioned once or twice in geography class at Karakura High School, but it was fair to say, he knew nothing of what to expect when his squadron first stepped through the Senkaimon.

He felt like he stepped back in time. It was as if modern civilization had not reached the boundaries of Soul Society. Instead of supermarkets, malls, and high rises, there were dilapidated buildings that looked more like shacks than homes or storefronts. He felt like he was looking through his Japanese history book; the scene looked like something from the Edo period…or was it the Heian period? Perhaps he should have paid closer attention to the illustrations in the book. Nevertheless, this place was completely foreign to him.

The few civilians he noticed ran through the streets barefoot and in tattered rags, their heads bowed low as they skittishly avoided the arriving soldiers. Their distrust of the Karakurians filled the air like the rotting smell of the potent corpse flower.

During his first tour, the young private often found himself stationed at various strongholds throughout the Rukongai. "Stronghold" was a exaggeration. With the underhanded ways in which the Espada fought, Ichigo found his unit pushed further and further back toward the 1st District of Rukongai. He spent much of his time in and around Sabitsura. The 64th Eastern District appeared poor and disorganized. However, he had heard fellow soldiers observed far worse conditions in the crime-infested outer-Rukongai districts. He could not imagine these impoverished areas would flourish any better under the control of Aizen. In fact, he had no doubt humanitarian aid would never even reach that far.

There was no art to this war. There was no honor to it.

The guerrilla attacks of the Espada were pure chaos. Random and cruel, Aizen's forces paid no heed to whether they destroyed their enemies' forces, the land, or the civilians caught in the middle of the conflict. Wholly devoid of compassion, mass destruction that led to swift domination was the Espada's _modus operandi_.

"Fucking hell." In a frustrated huff, Ichigo crumpled the paper and catapulted it toward the door. The wadded paper made contact with a new presence entering the barracks.

"My, my, Ichigo-kun. I don't know what I did to deserve such bombardment, but I meant no offense," the white-haired ambassador gently chided his sergeant and raised his hands in mock surrender.

"Ambassador Ukitake!" A startled Ichigo looked like the child caught stealing cookies from the cookie jar. Of all the people he had met since he joined the service, Ichigo found Ambassador Ukitake the most honorable and moral. Ukitake was one of the few people for whom Ichigo held great respect. "My apologies, Sir. I didn't-"

A sympathetic "tsk" stopped the soldier's rhetoric. Ukitake carefully smoothed the page and read the release. The genial leader mused, "Ah, I see we have the latest release to send back to Karakura Town. I suspect the newscaster will bury it somewhere between stories of haunted hospitals and local superheroes on tomorrow evening's news. Then all of Karakura may sleep safely and soundly in the comfort of their beds."

Both Uryu and Ichigo noted the playful tone of Ambassador Ukitake's voice did not match the growing hopelessness in his kind eyes. Uryu exchanged a look with Ichigo and silently willed him to keep his outrage at the state of things to himself.

It wasn't that Uryu was not equally aware of the injustices occurring throughout Soul Society. However, to allow those troubled thoughts to build to an emotional outburst helped no one. Uryu would approach this war as he approached most conflicts in life: with logic and rationality. It was neither logical nor rational to cause widespread panic back in the World of the Living. Not when the cause was so nearly lost.

"Speaking of beds, isn't it about time that you both return safely to your own?" When a set of steely blue and intense amber eyes stared back deep in their own thoughts, Ukitake cleared his throat. "Gentlemen, it's best you leave the unfinished paperwork until tomorrow. It will likely still be here in the morning."

"Likely?" Ichigo inquired. _Was there something I don't know?_

Ukitake sadly mused, "Tides turn fast in all that is love and war."

Ichigo looked at the ambassador with confusion.

"Ah yes, I forgot we have a literary scholar in our midst," chuckled Ukitake. Evading Ichigo's pursuit for deeper answers, Ukitake responded to his sergeant's current befuddled expression. "I might have taken a few liberties with the saying, but its meaning holds just as true."

Before Ichigo could query further, Uryu abruptly stood and handed the Vandenreich communication to the ambassador. "The communiqué you requested. If there are any corrections, I will make them in the morning and dispatch the jigokucho posthaste." It had been a long week already, and the days ahead looked grim. While Uryu was ready to call it a night, Ichigo oddly seemed more reluctant to leave his post.

Stretching before reaching for the next bundle in the pile, Ichigo affixed his signature scowl. "I'll just stay a while longer and finish up a few things."

Uryu eyed the orange-haired sergeant. Trying not to display the worry he felt for Ichigo's growing discomfiture, Uryu firmly called out, "Kurosaki."

Ichigo's scowl only darkened.

With an internal sigh, Uryu tried a different approach. Smirking, the Quincy began with feigned shock, "Sergeant Kurosaki Ichigo missing out on an opportunity to taste the local fare? I remember when you couldn't wait for your leave. You've grown into a giant prude."

"Yes, I've heard you hold quite the memoirs as a Romeo from your first tour, Sergeant," teased the ambassador with a wink. "Don't forget the new curfews are in place throughout the Seireitei. You strapping young lads should strike now while the night is young."

Ichigo spared the men a withering glance. How was he to win a battle against an ass and a fool? Pinching the bridge of his nose in defeat, Ichigo reluctantly arranged his desk in neat piles before wearily joining Uryu near the shoji doors.

"Goodnight, gentlemen. Enjoy yourselves," waved Ukitake as his two favorite soldiers departed the barracks. Knowing of their tireless efforts to make a difference in Soul Society, Ukitake thought they should have at least once last hurrah before the proverbial shit hit the fan.

"Goodnight, Sir," Ishida politely responded.

Ichigo merely nodded to the ambassador. His mind was still jumbled with feelings of dissatisfaction and uncertainty as he approached the Embassy gates. Wasn't he the good guy here? Wasn't he born to protect? Then why was he feeling as lost as this war? He was pulled out of his thoughts when he felt the steady raindrops begin to mat his orange spikes and shirt to his body.

Amber eyes angrily scanned the blackening evening sky. Fuck. Another wasted Seireitei night in the rain.


	4. Waxing Crescent

******A/N**: As they sing in _Schoolhouse Rock_, "the shot heard 'round the world, was the start of the Revolution!" Happy Patriots' Day, New England!

_Response to reviewer ej:_ Because some readers do not know the source material, I removed your review. As to your first question: essential element. As to your second question: probably not. Working with three sources is challenging, but if there are specific lyrics you like, please do not hesitate to request them & I will see if they fit in the story.**  
**

A little advanced warning for May: though I wanted to post chappy 5 on Memorial Day (USA), I will be in the middle of a cross-country move. I hope you will patiently indulge me until I am settled. Thank you for your continued reading.  
~Snow

******Disclaimer:** I do not own the overarching plot or the characters. Full disclaimer in chappy 1.

* * *

**_Chapter 4: Waxing Crescent_**

**_Time: Later that afternoon. . ._**

**_Place: The Seireitei_**

The Seireitei.

The glorious capital city settled at the center of Soul Society—a citadel and a sanctuary.

Heavily guarded.

Heavily defended.

Heavily desired.

Slipping past its imposing gates after a sly exchange occurred between the cat-eyed princess and an imposing guard, Rukia was encased amongst the monotonous walls that lined the maze-like roads of the Seireitei. Near the entrance to the centralized haven, small shops dotted the roadway. Each looked neat and ordered—a stark contrast to the poorly-maintained shoten of the Rukongai. Rukia's assumption they would be arriving at their destination within what looked to be this business district was a faulty one.

As the two women traversed deeper into the capital city, Rukia noted the white-walled, golden-roofed headquarters and barracks that nestled themselves between the massive walls. Without guidance, it was easy to see how one could become lost in the labyrinth. A wrong turn usually meant a dead end. The girl struggled to remain close to her swiftly-moving guide.

Heavy loads weighed down weakening arms; weariness washed over the petite raven as the journey felt like it would never end. Passing what appeared to be the twelfth set of similar-looking buildings, Yoruichi turned down a few side streets until an oddity arose before them. In contradiction to the white and golden hues of the buildings they happened by, Rukia stared curiously at a small, rundown storefront. Next to the majestic quarters surrounding it, the store looked almost non-descript with its simple gray roof and white walls, if not for the worn out wooden planks framing the doors and windows and the peculiar sign, which stated: _Urahara Shop_. Rukia wondered what kind if items were sold in this skizzy-looking shop that sheltered itself deep within the mammoth surroundings of the Seireitei.

Beneath its shabby awning, a lone figure sat as still as a toad waiting to catch its unsuspecting prey. And like its terrestrial amphibian counterpart, the lone figure donned himself in a sort of dark, mundane camouflage. Without understanding her discomfort at his presence, Rukia hesitated to approach any closer. On the other hand, Yoruichi carelessly attempted to brush past the seemingly sleeping man. A voice halted her entrance through the shop's doors.

"You're late," Urahara Kisuke stated without opening his eyes.

"Che," Yoruichi responded. "You know I can get ready in a flash."

The left side of Urahara's mouth quirked upward. "Any problems with the order?"

"What do you take me for?" she answered, almost offended.

"Certainly not for better or worse."

As Urahara still had his eyes closed, he did not notice the momentary hurt that blazed across Yoruichi's otherwise playful expression. Rukia, however, did. What surprised the young Kuchiki even more was that she observed a similar pained expression briefly pause upon the strange man's face.

During the exchange, Rukia set down her load and took the time to scrutinize the man before her. He was lazily lounging on a less-than-sturdy looking crate, the back top edge of which was pushed against the wooden planks of the wall. A green and white striped hat covered his eyes and messy ashen hair. He was dressed in an earthen tone of green and wore wooden sandals. A cane rested casually at his side. Besides his seemingly laidback and unaware attitude, Rukia did not know what to make of the puzzlement before her.

Her assessment of him as a relaxed, undemanding man could not have been further from the truth. As she started to follow Yoruichi into the shop, the cane suddenly collided harshly with her abdomen, blocking her path.

"And who do we have here?" For the first time since they approached, Rukia finally met his enigmatic grey gaze.

"Kisuke, this is Kuchiki Rukia. Rukia, Urahara Kisuke." Following Yoruichi's perfunctory introduction, Rukia appropriately bowed in greeting.

"Yare, yare. A Kuchiki, eh? Well, isn't that a surprise? Please feel free to call me 'Taicho.'" As he bowed deeply with a grandiose flourish, his raised eyebrow remained hidden beneath the shadow of his hat. "To what do I owe the honor, little princess?"

Before Rukia could respond, Yoruichi jumped in, "She's here to work. I'll have her ready for tonight. You needn't concern yourself too much with the details."

A grin spread across his face, "And why would I want to employ you, Kuchiki Rukia?"

"I can work hard and learn fast . . . Taicho," Rukia answered honestly.

"And she's clean," Yoruichi added. Looking down at her ragged clothing in misapprehension, Rukia missed the look that was exchanged between Yoruichi and Kisuke.

"And will you-"

"Of course she will, won't you, Rukia-chan?" Yoruichi quickly inserted, replying on behalf of the girl before Urahara could complete his inquiry. Rukia looked between Urahara and Yoruichi in confusion. The purple-haired woman stared intently at Rukia, willing her to acquiesce to the unfinished request.

"H-h-hai, Taicho, whatever you need me to do, I will do it," she hesitantly responded. She didn't understand what could be so difficult in working in a simple shop.

"Perfect!" he clapped his hands together, already envisioning the credits that would soon be within their grasp. "You begin tonight. Just follow Yoruichi-chan as an example, and you can't go wrong."

* * *

Rukia stood with her back pressed as close as it could be against the cold wall as she watched the cacophony of colors swirl before her. Unlike the penetrating stale odors of sweaty socks, urine, and regurgitated alcohol that immediately attacked her senses when she first entered the "shop," the air in the back room hung heavy with the scent of cheap perfume. However, the combined assault caused her to wrinkle and cover her nose.

To Rukia's surprise, the shop wasn't a shop at all; rather, it was a bar. And based on the slightly raised stage where, as Yoruichi explained, a dance competition was put on each night, Rukia surmised a sort of performance hall, as well.

All around her, the back room bustled in chaos as four bar girls prepared themselves for tonight's show. Their costumes were quite provocative and accentuated each of the girls' rather large assets. Rukia watched as a gorgeous strawberry blonde intently hiked her assets up into a very tight-fitting bikini halter top. Based on the curvaceous woman's determination to fit into a top that was two sizes too small and the remaining scanty costumes, Rukia surmised the key elements of the dance competition must include appearance as well as talent and skill.

Looking around her, Rukia noticed all of these curves she did not have. They were voluptuous; she was petite. Rukia looked down at her body and let out a disappointed whimper. If she could barely manage producing cleavage, how would she compete with the well-endowed beauties around her?

As Yoruichi walked by to pick up her costume, Rukia scrunched her face in concentration and tried jutting her chest forward. "Is this how you make a chest?" she earnestly inquired of the veteran coworker.

Yoruichi had to catch herself before she laughed at the girl. Rukia's naiveté was almost too cute for the goddess of flash to handle. But she also knew the trouble that naiveté would bring for the inexperienced girl. She honestly liked the Kuchiki heiress and wished she did not have to drag the fellow noble into a life of debauchery. "No," Yoruichi kindly answered. "It's like this." Yoruichi pushed her breasts together to accentuate her ample cleavage even more.

Rukia copied her example, squeezing in her arms and shoulders until a light line of cleavage formed between the two modest mounds. Yoruichi gave the girl an encouraging, but rueful, smile and returned to line her full lips in dark purple.

As the four women readied themselves, Rukia overheard each of them whispering, "Tonight, I will be Miss Seireitei." The forceful determination of the words was repeated over and over like a mantra. Rukia did not fully comprehend the significance and responsibilities associated with the title, but it seemed that every one of the girls was persistent in seeking it. Rukia took the time to study each one of them in turn.

With her long purple hair pulled into a high ponytail, the golden eyes of the Shihoin princess shined with bright intensity. Though she had an athletic frame, she also had killer curves. Yoruichi was playful and witty yet wise and knowing. The way in which she took Rukia under her wing reminded the young Kuchiki of her relationship with Kaien. Due to that bittersweet memory, Rukia trusted Yoruichi and was grateful for her guidance.

Next to the noblewoman, an astringent treasure prepared herself with fearlessness. Yadomaru Lisa's black hair was pulled back in a long braided ponytail, and she lined her turquoise eyes with an obsidian color. Her look was severe, and yet she had an entirely raunchy and erotic side to her that Rukia never would have expected given her stern appearance. Although, observing Lisa become a bit temperamental when the strawberry blonde casually borrowed her rouge, Rukia thought it best to keep a well-maintained distance.

Although wearing a similar long black braid and emanating a comparable stern silence to Lisa, the alluring Kurotsuchi Nemu's quiet demeanor appeared to reflect a much more introverted personality. Nemu was slender, well-busted, and had shapely legs that she showed off with a curve-hugging mini-skirt. However, her expression was a melancholy one; she readied herself in an almost mechanical manner. Rukia wondered if she and Nemu shared an equivalent past to make the shy green-eyed girl so withdrawn from the world around her.

The last of the bar girls was anything but withdrawn. Highlighting her sparkling blue eyes with a glittery shadow and combing through her voluminous hair, the boisterous Matsumoto Rangiku began spreading the latest gossip of the Seireitei. As she talked, she bubbled over with childlike glee tempered by smoldering sensuality. Of all the employees Rukia met thus far, Rangiku exhibited the fullest curves at the hip, posterior, and bust. If her suffocation-inducing hugs were any indication, Rukia knew she had never seen someone quite as well-blossomed as Rangiku. Like Yoruichi, Rangiku had a teasing and playful nature. Although she easily blushed at most of the words falling off of Rangiku's luscious pink lips, Rukia immediately took a liking to the strawberry-blonde beauty.

As the girls started shedding their brightly-colored silk robes, which covered their almost non-existent costumes, Kisuke pushed through the beaded curtain separating the dressing room from the bar. "Come on, hurry up! Why does it always take you girls all day to get ready? Get your asses out there and on stage; it's time to start filling my pockets with cash!"

"Hai, Taicho," the girls echoed in a chorus, before dashing around frantically trying to put the finishing touches on their hair, costumes, and make-up. It was as if they were getting ready for a full-fledged stage production or pageant. Rukia became lost in the wild shuffle surrounding her.

Shaking his head, Kisuke walked back to the corner. Unseen by Urahara, Rukia hid in the shadows of the costume rack and listened to the business man mumble to himself.

"Rumor has it the Seireitei has weeks before it falls. It's time to get out now, but I need more money." His eyes glazed over as he looked out over his ravishingly beautiful wares. With a defeated sigh, he continued, "This venture is losing money with each passing day. How am I going to afford a hell butterfly to the Living World if I don't raise enough credits tonight?"

From the bar, Urahara and his girls heard the deep tones of male voices begin to penetrate the next room. He snapped out of his disheartened meditation and immediately returned to his entrepreneurial demeanor. "Shit, they're already here! Gather 'round ladies."

Now donning nothing but their colorful and revealing bikini-like ensembles, the four women encircled Kisuke. Rukia stepped slightly forward, but she did not join the group.

Like a coach offering words of encouragement to his team before the big game, Urahara began his evening rallying cry. "Alright girls, you know who is out there, a gang of ryoka soldiers! For some reprieve from their long day of fighting," he paused to smack Yoruichi's ass, "they'll lay down a right sum."

The girls' excitement grew. The ryoka soldiers from Karakura were known for their hefty tipping. They definitely treated the girls better than most men in the Seireitei and the Rukon District. Tonight had the potential of being an easy night of high earning for all of them.

"Enchant them with your beauty and satisfy them to the best of your abilities. You know they could be your ticket out of here." _And mine as well_, Kisuke thought.

As he looked around his group of lovely ladies, he noticed one who was thoroughly overdressed. A petite, raven-haired girl with a bang hanging between her large amethyst eyes was dressed in a full cream-colored kimono with decorative silver threads. Momentarily, Urahara was dazed, "Why is she in this kimono?" Studying her closely, he realized, "Ah, it's my _new _princess!"

Yoruichi rolled her eyes, and the other girls just scoffed. They all knew how Urahara became when he had a new toy.

Feeling generous, Urahara decided to offer the petite girl a few pointers. "That bridal kimono adds such class," he teased her. "As you pass the soldiers in the bar, lower your eyelids like this." His demonstration of the fluttering of his eyelashes caused at least three of the other women to laugh uproariously at his antics. Nemu kept her deadpan silence.

Rukia nervously chuckled with the other girls, but her breathing started to pick up as she felt a sudden rush of anxiety and confusion overcome her. _Just what exactly am I getting into?_

The other girls' laughs turned to groans when Kisuke added, "Men will pay a lot for your virgin ass." Rukia stood in shock. Overlooking the frozen girl, Kisuke barked, "Hurry up; you have ten minutes before the show. Quickly now! Nanao!"

Upon hearing her name, a dark-haired woman pushed up her glasses and left her post from behind the bar. While very attractive in her own right, Nanao was able to avoid engaging in the midnight activities of many of her coworkers. Sometimes, there was an advantage to playing former mistress to one of the best connoisseurs of saké in the Seireitei. Her high-ranking connections and intimate knowledge of the capital proved she had more assets than what was between her thighs. Pouring drinks and running random errands for the bar owner beat turning tricks any day of the week. She hoped Urahara's request would not take long; she did not want the entering patrons to grow too restless. Nothing good ever came of slightly drunken, horny men.

Finally taking stock of the astonished girl before him, Kisuke began damage control. Credit signs still blinding his eyes, he could not afford to lose out on the immediate profit the Kuchiki princess would bring him. "Rukia-chan, this is Ise Nanao. She and Yoruichi-chan will assist you in preparing for tonight. Yoruichi, would you please explain to the lovely Rukia-chan the finer details of the job," he requested while smiling knowingly from behind a fan he suddenly pulled from his sleeve. As he exited, Urahara called back once more, "Move it, girls!"

"Hai, Taicho."

Yoruichi brought the stunned girl to her make-up station and directed Nanao to put some of it on the Kuchiki.

Nanao looked at Rukia's flawless, pale milky complexion. "I don't think she'll need much, Yoruichi-san. A little eye shadow? Maybe some lip gloss? He certainly doesn't want her to look like a—" Nanao couldn't bring herself to finish. Rukia's expectant eyes held so much innocence. Nanao shook her head; she wouldn't be the one to break her spirit.

"Hai. That would be fine, Nanao," Yoruichi curtly replied. The golden-eyed Shihoin sat next to Rukia and took the girl's small, elegant hands in her own. How could she delicately explain to the girl what she had to do tonight? Yoruichi really hated bringing Rukia into this world, but what else was she to do? It was a Hobson's choice; there were no other options. For now, she would keep the instructions simple. "Rukia, there are four things I want you to remember when you go out there." Rukia slowly nodded her understanding.

"First, when you dance, be seductive. Move your hips, and to do not be afraid to press yourself close to another's body. Second, always wear an alluring smile." She demonstrated an enticing smirk for the girl. "Third, show off your body. Remember that little tip from earlier," she winked playfully. Before imparting the fourth instruction, Yoruichi dragged in a deep breath. "Finally, whoever takes you for the evening, do whatever he says."

In the dirty and slightly-cracked mirror, all three women noted that Rukia's violet eyes could not become any wider.


	5. The Crowning

**A/N: **Still need a couple more things before I can be fully settled. The move was not enjoyable, and the past 24 hours have been disheartening. Being in the middle of a cross-country move, I did not have much time to contemplate Memorial Day - so thank you to all service peeps! Last month, I revisited Arlington National Cemetery; when I started adding up these cemeteries around the world, I was overwhelmed to think of how many lives were directly involved in such conflicts.

Welcome to the new readers and followers, and thank you for reading and for your patience in the moving delay of the May update.

~Snow

ej: Can do. It may be scattered in different places and be very out of context to the tone of the song, but I think some of the lyrics can work.

**_Disclaimer:_** _See_ Ch. 1.

* * *

**_Chapter 5: The Crowning_**

_**Time: That evening**_

_**Place: Urahara Shop**_

"Come on, Kurosaki. Tonight you are joining me at the Urahara Shop," Uryu asserted. "I've had enough of your scowling all week. You need to loosen up."

Ichigo raised an eyebrow at his comrade. Stick-up-his-ass Ishida was telling _him_ to loosen up? Something was definitely wrong with this picture. What was even more amiss was the fact he was allowing Uryu to drag him to this damn bar in the rain. It always was fucking raining in this forsaken hell. He hated the fucking rain.

Trudging through the falling drops, they arrived in a seemingly concealed location in the Seireitei. Hidden in plain sight, it appeared to be located off the beaten path, but in reality, it was not far from their own barracks. Just a few twists and turns past a research and development institute and some sort of "magical" clinic, and they were there. Considering the number of bars he visited on his first tour of duty, Ichigo was surprised he had never been to this one before. Of course, he never had to search for anything before. It was simple to merely follow others to the various joints around the Seireitei. But this place—this place took some insider knowledge to find.

Entering the shop, he looked around. He expected to regard one of the Seireitei's best kept secrets. However, what he discovered inside was nothing of the sort. Slightly dilapidated, the room was dim but flashed with colored lights. A well-stocked but battered-looking bar was pressed against one side of the room, a make-shift stage was on the other, and various mismatched tables and chairs were scattered across the room. His shoes bonded to the sticky wooden floor. As he inhaled, the powerful stench of the room hit his nostrils. "_This _is the shitty dive you brought me to?" Ichigo held back none of his disappointment.

Uryu shrugged. "I'm sorry it's not up to your high standards, _Sergeant_. I forgot the dumps you like to frequent. The Kamenoya Bar is such a palace fit for a king," he sarcastically compared. "Besides, since the end is near, all we need to do is get drunk, get laid, and celebrate our soon-to-be return home. This place seems to be as good as any, and we didn't have to walk far. So shut up and enjoy yourself."

Scowling like a toddler without his favorite toy, Ichigo nonetheless remained silent as he followed Uryu to a table near the front. Their path was interrupted by an odd-looking man in a hat and clogs.

Having seen one of his favorite repeat customers enter the shop, Urahara quickly approached the known soldier. "Welcome back, Quincy Sergeant Ishida! You've come tonight to win Miss Seireitei?" When he noticed the soldier's orange-haired companion, he shadowed his eyes under his hat, pulled up his fan, and asked with a hidden grin, "And who is your friend?"

Ichigo narrowed his eyes and scanned the boisterous man, who he presumed to be the owner. From the familiarity with which this hat-and-clogs addressed Uryu, Ichigo deduced that his superior must be a frequent visitor to this _fine_ establishment. That explained why they were there.

Ishida explained, "Ah, Taicho, this is my colleague, Sergeant Kurosaki Ichigo. As a final souvenir of our lovely stay in the Seireitei, Kurosaki here needs to get laid." With a smirk, he added, "Desperately."

Kisuke contained his worry at the Quincy's confirmation that the Seireitei was going to hell in a handbasket. He needed to do what he does best, and quickly. Bowing deeply, he began, "Ah, Sergeant Kurosaki, welcome to my humble shop. I am Urahara Kisuke, at your service. Anyone you need, you just let me know." He held his signature fan in front of his grin as he watched the sergeant's face contort into various expressions of anger.

Ichigo grabbed Uryu's arm and pulled him away from the strange man toward a table located in the far corner from the stage. Shaking his head, he looked at Uryu and bit out, "Nothing makes me hate you more right now. Cut the bullshit."

Uryu removed Ichigo's hand from his upper arm; Kurosaki was always easier to contain when he lost himself with some whore. Uryu chuckled, "Until they send us home, I'm buying you a girl."

A dark look crossed Ichigo's face. It was usually futile to argue with Ishida when Ichigo knew he needed something to talk him down from the ledge. He would cave to his baser needs just enough to get the Quincy off his case. "You can buy me a sake. One."

Almost on cue, a perky bar maid bounced up to the two soldiers now seated at the back corner table. Two orange eyes looked eagerly at Ichigo. "What can I bring you handsome gentlemen?" she flirted with clear intent.

Because Ichigo completely ignored the bubbly girl, Uryu answered for both of them, "A bottle of sake. Two cups, please."

Still holding out for a glance from the hunky orange-haired soldier, the bar maid eventually gave up. Her purple ponytail disappointedly swung behind her as she sulkily brought the order to Nanao.

As always, Nanao diligently prepared the order. Setting the bottle and cups on the counter, she wondered why this childish waitress was so fervent to sell her body and soul to every striking soldier she set her eyes on. Maybe she should switch places with that poor girl waiting backstage. Nanao's heart ached for the violet-eyed girl who would be soon meeting the fate this imprudent server so longed for. Foolish child.

* * *

The music changed, the colored lights flashed, and the evening's awaited entertainment sauntered out onto the stage to the hollers of the men gathered in the shop. Ichigo saw several familiar faces: Private Asano Keigo, an annoying, fledgling soldier, who probably enlisted just to scout out Soul Society women in bars; Lance Corporal Kojima Mizurio, a level-headed soldier, who could be very resourceful if he'd use his abilities to gather information about the enemy rather than hook up with older women, but they kept him around because he excelled at forming contingency plans; and Sergeant Sado "Chad" Yasutora, a giant man with whom Ichigo served in his first tour. Ichigo was stunned that Chad was still in the Seireitei, considering his gentle nature and opposition to fighting. Chad appeared nonplussed by the women gathered on stage, but Kojima and Asano were excitedly watching. Was Asano already drooling? And how did all of them know about this dump? Ichigo still didn't see what about this place was such a draw for his comrades. Had he really checked himself that far out from the life he knew before—out from the him he knew before?

The place seemed to be packed with groups of three to six soldiers cramped around the haphazardly-placed tables. However, hidden in the shadows of table near the entrance, Ichigo briefly noted the presence of a solitary figure. His body was slumped over the table, hand still holding a bottle of sake. Ichigo shook his head at the harmless-looking drunkard. Ichigo's attention was diverted from the myriad of individuals around the bar as Urahara took the stage to introduce each of the girls vying to be Miss Seireitei.

"Welcome, my loyal friends, to Friday night at the Urahara Shop. As your humble neighborhood barkeep," he offered a decorous bow, "it gives me great pleasure to introduce to you tonight's competition. Which of my lovely girls will be crowned Miss Seireitei? Be sure to buy your tickets to support your favorite. First, the buxom beauty, Rangiku."

Puckering her full pink lips, Rangiku swayed her curvaceous hips to accentuate her bright pink bikini, which left very little to the imagination. "Don't you love how this itty-bitty bikini shows off my breasts?" To delight of the men in the bar, she bounced up and down to demonstrate. "Would you like to see more?" She started to untie her halter top.

Slitted eyes watched carefully from the table in the back, a wide grin spreading.

Kisuke pushed Rangiku aside and sighed, "Save it for after the show."

"Awww, but Taicho," the strawberry-blonde whined and pouted out her pink bottom lip.

After giving her a meaningful look, she tied the strings back together and blew a kiss to the back of the room before moving aside. Hands full of credits instantly flew into the air.

Urahara next announced, "And for those wishing to be dominated, I introduce the erotic Lisa."

Feeling up her legs, Lisa rhetorically asked. "See how my bikini rides up my thighs?" Suddenly she turned her back to the bar and bent over; the hot pants glued to her body like a second set of skin. Her flexibility showed as her hands touched the floor in front of her. "And the view from behind is even better."

Enthusiastic applause accompanied Lisa's lithe and supple example of what she would later perform wearing even less. Smirking as she whipped her braid to the side, Lisa gave way to another braided beauty.

"On the other hand, if you want someone entirely submissive, Nemu is the girl for you," Kisuke introduced.

The silent but beautiful green-eyed woman brought her hands together in front her ample chest and bowed. Then she contorted herself into a position most spectators never thought physically possible. If Lisa was flexible, this girl had to be double jointed. Nemu's emotionless voice sounded, "I offer you my special trophy of war."

When Nemu took center stage, Uryu stood more erect and began hollering. _So this must be why we are here_. Ichigo smugly smirked at the Quincy.

Seeing the look on Ichigo's face, Uryu just shrugged, "What? So I've got the hots for Nemu." He turned back to cheer for his favorite girl.

Nemu demurely smiled at the Quincy before lowering her eyes and clearing the front of the stage. All the girls knew to allow plenty of room for the patrons' favorite to take center stage.

"And the one you've all been waiting for," Kisuke began, "I present to you the Goddess of Flash herself, Yoruichi!"

The crowd immediately erupted into catcalls.

With a feline grace and a Cheshire cat-like grin, Yoruichi strutted herself across the stage gyrating her hips in a hypnotic pattern. "If you're fast enough to catch me, I'll give you the night of your life. They don't call me the Goddess of Flash for nothing."

Seeing the ogling eyes of the men, Kisuke reminded them, "The winner of the raffle gets Miss Seireitei for free, so be sure to buy your tickets from me."

Uninterested in the displays of lust before him, Ichigo grew more and more impatient as the night went on. He wanted this crowning to be over so he could return to the barracks to wallow in his self-pity. He guessed he had changed quite a bit from the naïve soldier he once was. He knew how cheap all of these asses were. During his first tour, he would often get high and wake up next to some random whore. That was standard operating procedure. But now, there was just this hollow feeling that surrounded his heart; the activities of his past weren't fun anymore. He threw back another cup of sake hoping to drown out the void.

Once Yoruichi took her place alongside the first three women, there was a momentary lull in the activity. When she felt Urahara's eyes drilling into her, Rukia was still processing Yoruichi's instructions for the night: seductive dance, alluring smile, show-off your body, do what he says. While she had danced some with Kaien, based on the clothing the other girls were wearing, Rukia did not believe that what was expected of her here was the same kind of dancing. As long as she did not allow her panicked state to get the best of her, she could handle the smile. . . she hoped. But showing off her body? What was there to show?

Realizing it was her turn, the petite princess hesitantly stepped forward. With a deep breath, Rukia started, "I'm seventeen, and this is my first day. My home seems so far from the Seireitei." She paused at the painful reminder of her past. Because she did not want to allow anyone to see the troubled emotion brewing inside, she quickly composed herself with a wall of ice. "I am ashamed; I do not know as much to say as the other girls." Pausing again, she remembered words Kaien once spoke to her, and they gave her strength to continue with a final thought, "But I hold onto hope and want my heart to live on."

When the purest voice of an angel reached his ears, Ichigo's attention landed on a petite figure clad in a snow-colored dress. Ichigo found himself drowning in the midnight pools he saw on stage. Lost in the unexpected moment, Ichigo quietly exclaimed, "Kami, Uryu, who is she?"

Unbeknownst to Ichigo, someone else noticed those same indigo eyes and silently slinked out of the bar.

Having finished their introductions, the girls descended from the stage to mingle amongst the ryoka in the bar. Yoruichi, Rangiku, Nemu, and Lisa worked the room. It was almost election time, and they needed every vote they could get. As the girls wandered the room to flirt with the soldiers, Ichigo's eyes remained fixed on the raven-haired girl who looked awkward as she unsuccessfully attempted to mix with the salivating soldiers in the bar.

Meanwhile, Urahara also played the room, grabbing up as many credits as he could. Thankfully, it was a good turnout tonight, and he could collect a decent profit. Uryu's words played in the back of his mind as he worked to squeeze out every last drop from the more-than-eager clientele. When he believed he had gathered a sufficient sum, Kisuke signaled to the girls to enter their line as he once again took center stage.

"May I have your attention, please? It is time to crown tonight's Miss Seireitei. Please vote by your applause." He first walked over to Rangiku and placed his hand above her head. "Rangiku." Taking the same action, he next approached Lisa and Nemu. "Lisa. Nemu." Each of the three girls earned her fair share of raucous applause; Uryu offered the loudest for Nemu.

Kisuke next walked over to Rukia, his eyes shaded by his ashen hair. "Rukia." Though the applause was less than the others received, the new girl entertained a respectable amount, except from one orange-haired soldier, who clapped loudly for her. Rukia looked out in surprise, and for the first time, amethyst met amber. The moment was not lost on Urahara; he would be raking in some money tonight.

Finally, Urahara approached Yoruichi and placed his hand over her head. "Yoruichi." As expected, the Shihoin princess won the rowdiest applause from the bar patrons.

"Your attention, please. I am pleased to announce that, by popular demand, Miss Shihoin Yoruichi has been elected Miss Seireitei!" Urahara placed a cheap rhinestone tiara on her head and a pageant ribbon stating "Miss Seireitei" across her ample chest. Their eyes momentarily locked during the crowning. He hated that it was always her. But business was business, and she was his business.

Regaining his senses, he presented his green-and-white striped hat, which he has filled with all of the raffle tickets, before Yoruichi. "And now, who will win this pussycat?"

Yoruichi, with great flourish, reached into the hat and stirred around the tickets. Selecting one, she handed it back to Kisuke, who revealed, "Number 66!"

As the men check their tickets for a matching number, Ichigo heard a voice cry out, "It's me! I'm number 66!" With a waterfall of tears pouring out of his eyes, Asano Keigo jumped up and down with glee; he could not believe his luck for the night—a whole night with the lovely Yoruichi. He almost passed out from the sheer thought.

Ichigo scoffed at the young private's display: hearts in his eyes and drool coming out of his mouth. He was an embarrassment to the male race. He probably spent a month's salary to fill the hat with his tickets just to get laid by a whore.

Now that the contest result was settled, Urahara turned his attention to his newest project for the night. He fanned himself as he thought about how to arrive at this most profitable scheme. From the man's earlier attitude, approaching him directly would not be the best idea. However, his friend seemed more than willing to make a purchase on his behalf this evening. Seeing Uryu had recently stepped away from his table, Kisuke took the opportunity to meet him at the bar. "Hey Quincy Sergeant Ishida! How would you like to go home in style? I have this lovely new invention-"

Knowing of his unusual creations, Uryu was intrigued by what the barkeep had to offer. "What's the pitch?"

Shielding his eyes with the recently replaced bucket hat atop his head, Kisuke continued, "If you can help me by providing me with a hell butterfly. . .use the clout with your position in Ambassador Ukitake's Office. . ."

"Ha! Not a chance, Urahara. We at the Ambassador's Office know you and your mischief all too well. It will never happen." Ishida glanced back and saw his colleague still staring at that new girl. "Tonight, I'm more interested in the girl in the ecru-colored kimono with silver sakura petal detailing."

"Yare, yare, Quincy Sergeant, you have a very good sense of style. My new princess? Her name is Rukia. Did you want to give her a try?"

"Not me," Ishida responded casting furtive look in Nemu's direction. "She's actually for my friend, Kurosaki, the one who's acting all depressed and down."

"Don't worry, she'll get him up," Urahara stated with a lopsided grin. "It's her first night here in the Seireitei, so don't expect her to be cheap. My princess is going to cost you."

Great, he decided to do something nice for his colleague, and it was going to cost him a fortune. "How much are we talking, Taicho?"

"Well, you see, she's untouched so I can't just let her go for a song. Make it 20,000 credits, and I'll throw in the room and key. He can keep her the whole night."

Ishida nodded and counted out 20,000 credits from his wallet. At least it was the equivalent to pocket change back home. Still, he only hoped it was money well spent; the sergeant better return in a less pissy mood to the office on Monday. Rejoining Ichigo at the table, Rukia had just walked by, lowering her eyes as she passed, just as Urahara had demonstrated. Uryu chided his friend, "Stop drooling, Kurosaki. You're losing your edge." He looked after the passing girl. "Jail bait, huh? Never expected that from you."

Ichigo scowled darkly at Uryu. "Will you open your eyes to this shit around you? This war is almost over; we're losing. This girl, I could have her for what it costs to buy a bento at the convenient store. Che, it's time to go back home." Ishida just stared at him. "You know exactly what I mean, Ishida."

"You're making me cry, Kurosaki," Uryu responded sarcastically. "You have lost touch with the world; stop thinking so much, and just do something about it." Getting no reaction from the scowling sergeant, Uryu tossed the startled Ichigo a key. "You can thank me for your present later. She's yours all night."


	6. First Dance

**A/N:**Happy Flag Day! Although I had no flag or place to fly it in my temporary abode, I hope someone remembered to put it out at home. This posting date sneaked up on me fast, and I have had less time to much of anything since the move. Balancing coursework and plannings for another temporary trans-ocean move this autumn have quashed my plans to spend quality time doing things of enjoyment, such as art projects and writing this story. My continued gratitude to everyone who is out there reading.

~Snow

* * *

**_Chapter 6: First Dance_**

**_Time: Immediately following . . ._**

**_Place: Urahara Shop_**

As the immediate excitement of the crowing died down, the girls got to their usual business. With her reigning title of Miss Seireitei, Yoruichi's dance card was already filled, but Lisa, Rangiku, and Nemu still needed to earn their keep. If they wanted the prime cuts from the market, they needed to work fast.

Although she never complained about her lot in life, Nemu secretly was relieved when Quincy Sergeant Ishida was in attendance. Unlike most of her customers, who treated her like the gum stuck to the bottom of their shoe, he treated her with respect. She may have been a whore, but he always made her feel like a human being. Sometimes it made being with him more difficult; it was much harder to play a robot and shut off the feelings that she tried to keep buried. However, during nights like these, she could rest peacefully in a dreamless sleep.

Looking around the bar, Rangiku pouted her pink lips in disappointment upon realizing that her favorite client had disappeared into the night. Her rising pique was soon extinguished when she noticed Lisa beckoning her over. Lisa had the attention of a rather short, slight, dark-haired soldier. Rangiku quirked an eyebrow, and Lisa's smug smile confirmed he wanted both of them. It had been a while since she had done a tandem act, but she had done far odder things. Plus, she knew Lisa to be very inventive. The youthful soldier was well-dressed and looked nonplussed as he handed over a fistful of credits to a grinning Urahara.

Offering an arm to each of them, he stated with a gentlemanly manner, "Lance Corporal Kojima Mizurio at your service. Ladies, shall we?"

Lisa and Rangiku shared a look across the top of his head and shrugged. It would make for an interesting story to share in the morning.

Yoruichi was almost jealous of her colleagues. It seemed they would have a relatively normal night ahead of them. However, seeing that the over-excitable soldier she would soon be coupling with almost literally was bouncing off of the walls, she was already exhausted. Mentally, she tried to prepare herself for what she already deemed to be a night from hell. Plastering a sultry smile across her lips, she lazily meandered her way across the room to the raffle winner—a tiresome, drooling, crying, loud soldier, who was awaiting for her with outstretched arms.

"Oh, if it isn't the beautiful Miss Seireitei, Yoruichi!" Asano Keigo yelled. "Welcome to this garden of manliness." After claiming his prize, Keigo began groping Yoruichi with as much gentleness and gracefulness as a hippopotamus. "I felt so lonely playing all by myself."

Yoruichi rolled her eyes and held back a gag of disgust. "Your skills are unmatched by any man I've ever met," the Shihoin princess sarcastically cooed in Asano's ear. Of course, he took her scathing insult to be a compliment and continued to display his complete failure in the art of seduction.

Kisuke watched the clumsy attack from under the shade of his signature hat. That damn hat that picked this unskilled rookie. He'd save her, at least temporarily. Gliding over to the green ryoka, Kisuke placed a hand on the boy's shoulder and separated the leech from its host. "Now, now, don't be so hasty, Private. Miss Seireitei needs to freshen up a bit so she is in her full splendor for your grand night," he sold the boy with the oozing ease of a used car salesman.

Kisuke held out his hand and escorted Yoruichi toward the back.

"Thank you," she sighed in relief.

"Oh don't thank me yet. Your job is far from done. You'll be back fulfilling his fantasies momentarily, but for now, you and Nanao need to prepare my princess."

"And here I thought _I_ was your princess, Urahara," Yoruchi scolded.

"Yare, yare, so jealous, Yoruichi-chan. How shameful. Why settle for a mere princess, when you're a goddess?" Her expression indicated she was mollified, for now. _This_ is how he ran a successful business. As they passed through the beaded door curtain, he called over his shoulder, "Nanao, I'll be sending Rukia back here. It seems she's already earned herself an admirer. Make her ready."

Nanao affirmatively nodded as she finished mixing a drink and followed the pair into the back.

"Out of curiosity-_not_ jealousy," Yoruichi amended when he looked at her in doubt, "which one is he?"

"Sergeant Kurosaki, the carrot top."

Yoruichi and Nanao poked their heads through the beads, scanning the room for him until they found his orange head, a bright beacon in the dimly-lit bar. They turned to each other and gave an almost imperceptible nod of approval.

* * *

Meanwhile, Kisuke found Rukia hidden slightly in the shadows standing still and staring blankly at the scene unfold before her. Her exterior held its hard shell, but looking closely in her eyes, one could see the turmoil and apprehension bubbling inside the girl. The clamorous scene in the bar faded as the Taicho ushered the dumfounded Rukia behind the beaded curtain to join Yoruichi and Nanao in the back.

"Okay, Princess, just listen to these two lovely ladies. Tonight is your night to shine."

"H-h-ai, Taicho," Rukia stammered. Her mind rampant with so many conflicting thoughts, she had turned numb.

"Here, Rukia, sit down." Yoruichi guided the shell-shocked girl to the poorly-lit, smudged mirror at her make-up station. Nanao began to brush Rukia's hair in an effort to calm her.

Yoruichi looked over her shoulder at the glaring, dirty life of the bar then turned back to look at the three of them in the mirror. Their image was slightly warped, leaving a surreal aura about them. Through the mirror, Rukia's eyes looked up at Yoruichi's expectantly. The Shihoin princess closed her eyes momentarily and decided on complete honesty. Padding the truth was an insult to both nobles.

"Rukia-chan, listen to me carefully. The men out there will not be nice to you, nor will they be gentle. They are noisy, swearing assholes who are here for one thing and one thing only. And I can guarantee you, the fact they are here means most of them don't know jack about what they are doing. They feel nothing in their hearts."

Rukia's troubled eyes remained locked with Yoruichi's as a slight haze covered the older noble's golden stare. Yoruichi shook her head, and her lips turned slightly upward as she continued, "But every time I hold one in my arms, I can see it play out like a movie in my mind—the way I wish it could be; the way it ought to be." She sighed, "Married with laughing, happy, overstuffed children, residing in the World of the Living, our koi pond and garden out back, spending all his money on me. That's my longing; that's my dream." Yoruichi smiled sadly at the girl's reflection.

Nanao remained silent, continuing her task. As she brushed the girl's silken locks, Nanao wondered if this session was more to comfort Rukia or to comfort the Shihoin princess herself. Admittedly, it was good therapy for Nanao, too. Nanao was grateful she had some connections and a skill that Kisuke could utilize other than her body. Otherwise, she would be in the same place as all the other girls here.

"Yoruichi!" Urahara called. "Aren't you done yet? Your soldier is waiting. Move it."

Yoruichi patted Rukia's shoulder, and she turned to walk away. She pushed through the beads to the bar and walked into another dream, knowing all too well it would be shattered into a nightmare again by morning.

"I think Yoruichi may have exaggerated a little," Nanao attempted to encourage the silent and frozen girl. "When it happens, just don't think-"

"I won't cry or think," Rukia snapped; her cold Kuchiki mask forming over her heart and face. "I will do my job, just as I am told. It won't be me who is making love to them."

Nanao pursed her lips and held her tongue. You can't talk about love in a place like this. This place is completely devoid of love.

"And if they hurt me, I will close my eyes and see _my_ dream." She closed her eyes, and the movie started playing in her mind.

Nanao was fascinated by the demeanor of this virgin child. She wasn't resisting her fate. In fact, Rukia was the first girl who seemed to radiate a strong will of determination as she entered the unknown. When Rukia didn't open her eyes, Nanao's curiosity got the best of her. "What is your dream?" It barely came out as a whisper.

Nanao watched as a serene expression found its way across the girl's face. "I see a man who will not senselessly kill; instead, he fights for me to protect me and keep me safe so no one can take the dream away from us." As she spoke the words, images of Byakuya and Hisana filled her mind. She wanted that love; she wanted that happiness. But she knew it would be short-lived in this world—a life that destined against her, without protection and strength. She must find that to survive. Opening her eyes, her look of resolve met Nanao, "That is the dream I have to find. A world far from here, where life is not cruel and heartless. . ."

Rukia stood abruptly, instantly breaking the tranquil reverie like shattering ice. It did her no good to dwell on that which she would not find in this world. She bowed in thanks to a speechless Nanao and made her way back to the bar to learn of her assignment from Urahara. As Rukia entered the front of the shop, Nanao exhaled the breath she was holding, "I hope he is gentle and kind to you, Kuchiki-san."

* * *

"Just as I suspected, Princess," Kisuke smugly stated. "You are the first to score tonight. You see that sergeant over there?" He pointed to a tall, lean, orange-haired man. When Rukia nodded, Kisuke continued, "You've caught his undivided attention." Had it not been hidden behind his fan, Urahara's grin would have proudly displayed his immense pleasure at this prospect. If Rukia had known him better, she would have seen the large credit signs reflected in his eyes.

Rukia tilted her head inquisitively. The orange-haired soldier was staring intently at her. But with the scowl he wore on his face, she did not think his attention was something about which to be pleased.

Rukia's observations of the man were cut short by additional instructions from Urahara. "Stay with him until he's ready to leave the bar." She was about to find a bottle of sake to serve when Kisuke caught her arm, adding, "Call him Ichigo. He'll like that."

Still seeing a scowl on this Ichigo's face, Rukia was very hesitant to follow Urahara's instructions. What if he hurt her? All of her earlier pep talk was easily forgotten, and panic was setting in. Suggesting a different approach, Rukia defiantly stated, "That soldier just wants his sake."

Urahara added pressure to her arm and snapped his fan shut, "You said you needed this job, and you said you'd turn a trick. Unless you want me to throw you back out to Rukongai, you better prove it. Now."

Rukia's eyes widened at this sudden change in Urahara's demeanor. She had no idea the normally laid-back man could be this forceful. But she did not come this far to be thrown back to the wolves. She was a Kuchiki, and a Kuchiki keeps her word. When she held her head high and offered Kisuke and icy stare, the bar owner released her arm. She would prove it. She would prove to everyone what Kuchiki Rukia was made of.

Seeing that she would cooperate, Kisuke led Rukia to Ichigo. As they approached, the loud club music had ceased, and a single saxophone began a melancholy solo. Shyly raising her indigo eyes, she met his burning hazel ones for the second time tonight. When she carefully guided his hands to her hips, his scowl finally lessened. She echoed with a small smile of relief and brought her arms to his broad shoulders.

Rukia couldn't help but compare this dance to hers with Kaien. He had been the only person with whom she had ever danced. This felt nothing like that. This was awkward yet electric, and for the first time in days, she felt safe. Safe in the arms of this stranger. Rukia did not know what to make of it, but she instinctually felt herself pressing closer against him.

Ichigo did not know what to make of his feelings, either. This small, soft body in his arms ignited something inside of him that he did not understand. A feeling so long forgotten, he could not identify it. What was it about this beautiful, fragile-looking creature before him that instantly made him want to hold her tightly and never let her go?

Although the two of them stared intensely at each other, neither spoke a word. They were lost in the music and in each other.

Rukia was the first to snap out of the haze when she saw Urahara gesturing in her line of sight. _Oh yes, I have a job to do_. She hesitantly began, "My name is Rukia." Receiving no immediate reaction, she tried harder, "I like you, Ichigo." Ichigo froze.

Upon seeing the soldier cease dancing with his geisha de jour, Kisuke quickly approached the situation. Oozing out false concern, Urahara inquired, "Is something wrong? Don't you like her?"

Without thinking clearly, Ichigo breathed out, "Yes, I do."

An unexpected feeling caught in Rukia's heart. In her innocence, she took the confession meaningfully. Her large, amethyst eyes sparkled, and a tender smile spread across her lips. While dancing, he had been so gentle with her; she felt so secure. She stated honestly, "I like him, too."

Hook. Line. Sinker. Urahara knew this business transaction would go off without a hitch. In addition, if she did her job to the soldier's satisfaction, perhaps she would have a repeat customer. They just needed a tiny push further, and he would be seeing the credits rolling in, and perhaps that elusive hell's butterfly. For now, he needed to jump start the liaison. "Then take her away," he sagely suggested.

"Yes, take me away." Though Rukia repeated Kisuke's words, hers were laced with an altogether different meaning. When Ichigo opened his mouth to speak, she touched his lips with one delicate finger, silencing him. "Shhh. Just follow me."


	7. Sharing the Sky

**A/N: **Following my usual holiday selection, this should have been done on the 4th of July, but I was in an intensive course and procrastinating because of what this chapter required of me. First, a belated Happy Independence Day to my fellow Americans! Second, a Happy Bastille Day SO to my future neighbors in France! And aHappy Birthday to Ichigo. But today is the most important day of all of them...my day. :) So in celebration of my birth, I leave you with Chapter 7. To my Baby Boo, if you ever read this, your long-awaited moment is ahead; M rated for a reason. Not sure I'm satisfied with it, but the show must go on. A little trivia for my B'way lovers out there...see if you can find what other musical I relied in this chapter. As always, thank you for reading.

~Snow

**_Disclaimer:_** _See_ Ch. 1.

* * *

**_Chapter 7: Sharing the Sky_**

**_Time: Later that night. . ._**

**_Place: A room in The Seireitei _**

Splashing through the puddles, Rukia lugubriously made her way toward the evening's destination. The moonlight peeking through the clouds and a few torches provided the dim light by which she read the directions that she had scribbled down from the Taicho's description. Not one for wanting to be caught red-handed participating in illegalities, Urahara ensured any extra-curricular activities occurred quite some distance from his fine, upstanding establishment. Culpable deniability preserved each ashen hair on his head and caused one young girl and her customer to stumble their way through the night.

Ichigo's large, calloused hand wrapped around her smaller, soft one as he allowed the petite girl to silently lead him through a maze of back alleys of the Seireitei. He hoped she knew where she was going because he could not decipher one image on the paper in her hand. Their poor quality just looked like a child's scribbling. However, at that juncture, he would not have known if she had been taking him in circles. Rather, he was so focused on her delicate hand in his that he barely noticed she had stopped walking.

Standing in front of a set of doors, Rukia looked up at her night's companion and offered him an alluring smile. Feeling awkward in the moment, he rubbed the back of his neck. Again, he was losing himself in those eyes that matched the midnight sky above them. A blush forming on her cheek from his intense stare, Rukia sheepishly broke away from those burning amber flames.

When she looked away, the soldier finally regained his equilibrium and was brought back to reality. The key. She was clearly waiting from him to open the dilapidated doors. Ichigo fumbled a bit as he removed the key from his pocket. Unlocking the shoddy barrier, he motioned for her to enter first and looked around the space of their pending consummation. _Why did tonight have to be in such a shit hole?_ The room was filthy and brought back memories of previous hookups he'd rather forget. He couldn't say he was exactly proud of his past, and yet, he went repeating it once again. A room similar to all the other nights; a nightstand, chair with peeling paint, a small wash table with a pitcher, basin, and towel, and a rusty bed filled the small space. And yet, tonight, something felt different.

Besides the girl standing before him, the only thing of beauty was a high window that allowed the full moon to light the room with an ethereal glow. _Wait, the moon was shining?_ Listening carefully for the sound of raindrops hitting the roof or window glass, he heard none. How had he not noticed that the rain had stopped? He could not shake this strange sensation coursing through him.

Even so, the unexpected emotion was suddenly calmed. A feeling of relief washed over him as he turned back to the girl, who was bathed in the steely sheet of light from the white moon. Although she stood awkwardly with one arm crossed to the opposite shoulder, he wanted to tell her how lovely she looked in the moonlight, but the words did not form. Why was he suddenly feeling like some nervous schoolboy doing this for the first time?

Rukia tried looking everywhere in the dingy room except him, but her eyes kept being drawn to his like a moth to a flame. Uncertainty was bubbling in her stomach; the feeling of a thousand butterflies flapping their wings in warning. But warning what? She held her breath anticipating what would happen next.

_Pull it together, Ichigo. It's not like you don't know what to do_. Due to the confused state he was in, Ichigo decided it was just easier to move automatically for the time he removed his zanpatkuto and leaned it against the nightstand along with his belt, he started to unfasten the top button of his service uniform shirt. In a desperate attempt to do something to relieve the uncomfortable condition she was experiencing, Rukia stopped his hands and removed his khaki shirt herself before neatly hanging it on the bedpost. Though a white wife beater remained underneath, Rukia's eyes widened at the curvature of his muscles she readily could see beneath the fitted white cloth. His broad shoulders and chest narrowing down to a trim waist, and if his strong muscles of his upper arms spoke anything for what was under that tee… _Kami! Was it getting warm in here?_ Rukia's body temperature was climbing steadily. She hoped it was just from the heat and humidity in the air that lingered after the recent rain.

The orange-haired man still wasn't speaking. Rukia was growing bewildered as she ran through Yoruichi's four instructions. She had already danced with him. She had given him an alluring smile, at least by her standards. She couldn't do whatever he said because he just stood there staring at her, absolutely mute. His silence was unnerving, but she was clueless as to what to say. That left one remaining instruction: showing off her body.

Rukia tried to control her shaky exhale. Was she really ready for this? Her whole life was moving in a whirlwind; in a matter of days, she lost her family, her freedom, and now she was about to lose… This felt too uncomfortable and awkward; she did not know what she was supposed to do. She didn't have the curves of Rangiku, the boldness of Lisa, the stunning abilities of Nemu, or even the witty repartee of Yoruichi. Rukia was just Rukia. _Showing off your body is not opening up and sharing your soul_, she reminded herself and inhaled deeply. There was only one thing left to do.

Reverently removing her cream kimono, she folded and placed it on the chipped chair with as much care as possible. Although she felt little respect for herself on this occasion, she was determined to show respect for Hisana's labor of love. A sad smile formed on her lips as she moved her hand over the fabric, smoothing it out. There was no use holding on to the dreams behind that dress; that was a now a figment of her past. Her eyes peered about her. This was her future. Unwilling to waste another breath on yesterday, she continued onwards, and her simple undergarments followed suit.

There Rukia stood, completely naked, wrapped only by the silvery light of the moonbeams filtering through the open window. All sound was frozen still. Her wide eyes bored into him. Her expression was unreadable, but there was pride in her carriage and an unexpected innocence behind those stunning eyes. Ichigo's breath hitched as he took in this moon goddess. Though he could feel his body already responding to the girl, all he could manage to do was drink in the sight of her in all of her angelic glory. An angel caught in the middle of this hell. His mind was reeling with the enigma in which this raven-haired wonder was enshrouded. She radiated a quality that was just so different than everything else in this place.

Because the Espada's attacks were entirely unpredictable, Ichigo had limited opportunity to experience life in Soul Society. From what little exposure he had—mainly bars and brothels—he noticed that the culture, like the appearance of this mysterious land, was so different from home. He sensed a deep-rooted history among the people, but he did not know what it was. From the moment he arrived in Soul Society, the residents of the Rukongai did not trust him, and the Karakurian soldier was the first to admit he had his own reservations. Unfortunately, stereotypes ran rampant on both sides. Ichigo only saw what appeared to be the harsh life of a Rukon peasant. He did not take the actual time to meet one or understand their lives. Was he really any better than the people back home? Still, he was convinced he was here to save them all; he could not fathom for a moment that they might not want to be saved.

And this indigo-eyed nymph in front of him was no exception. Rukia's innocence, charm, and beauty bewitched Ichigo. She reminded him of a butterfly that fluttered around the room only to land before him with a silent grace. He felt conflicted between his fear of hurting those butterfly wings and taking her savagely right then and there.

As the air hung heavy with humidity, it only intensified with the heat emanating from the two bodies in the room. Although the temperature was very warm, Rukia shivered under his stare. Seeing her shudder before him brought Ichigo back to the present; he slowly approached her and asked softly, "Are you trembling?"

"I do not tremble," she snapped and glared at him with indignation.

Ichigo smirked. Her butterfly wings were not as delicate as he initially suspected. His need to stare had converted into a driving desire to feel those wings beneath him. Wrapping his arms around her delicate frame, he buried his nose in her raven locks. Though she smelled primarily of cheap perfume, he could detect a faint scent of spring dew and sakura blossoms underneath. If he kept sniffing her, he believed he could get high just from her smell alone.

Although she was naked, she wasn't taking any further actions. Her hands were fisted closed against his back, and her own breathing had stopped. He was confused. Uryu bought her for him, so she was a whore, right? Compared to the others he encountered, she did not seem like it. She seemed hesitant and inexperienced. And yet, there was something, some unknown force, pulling inside of him, directing him to this girl.

As a result of his newfound imperative to have this heavenly creature, Ichigo had no problem taking the lead. Lifting her to his waist, he guided her long creamy legs to cocoon him. While he walked to and placed her on the rusty, creaking bed, he teased her lips. When Ichigo pressed himself against her, his body was warm against her chilled frame. Light nibbles along her neck, collar bone, and breasts turned into open-mouth, wet suckles. Gentle kisses to her sweet lips morphed into deep, crushing battles—battles that Ichigo was winning without much resistance. He was growing slightly impatient and disconcerted with her lack of encouragement.

Because she remained fairly unresponsive, Ichigo could not fathom what was occurring inside of his current companion. Yet, with these touches alone, Rukia was feeling alive in ways she never thought possible. An unforeseen energy and a newfound passion awoke within her. Moreover, her body was reacting in unfamiliar ways. But whatever it was doing felt euphoric. Soon she felt the impulse to reciprocate the bliss she was experiencing.

Pushing off the unnecessary white tee, hesitant fingers were soon followed by curious lips as Rukia began to explore the bronzed body above her. Her elegant fingers tangled through his mussed orange hair. Light scratches of nails dragged down his back. Sweet kisses patterned across his chest. When she began to participate in their foreplay, Ichigo smiled and felt himself ascending to heaven. Though her caresses were much more delicate and demure than he was used to, there was a meaning behind each touch that reached his very soul.

His own touch proceeded on its course over her firm abdomen and well-shaped, comely backside. The pace of her breathing increased, and her little huffs of air were now forming sounds as he neared his next destination. Her soft mewls were sweet music to his ears. And if music be the food of love, he would play on. She was already moist when reached her core, and when a finger slipped into her, the tightening of her muscles around it was like donning a warm, velvet glove.

His fingers played nimbly with areas of her body she never knew had such sensitivities. Rukia was puzzled how something could feel so unusual and satisfying at the same time. The Kuchiki princess became warm, and she felt a slight sheen of sweat coating her body. In addition, something was starting to bubble inside of her. This something was unlike the nervous butterflies she felt earlier in the night. This was…indescribable. Uncertain of this feeling, she struggled against it. Her toes curled, her jaw clenched, and her hands grabbed the worn sheets to prevent the inevitable.

Feeling her resistance to pleasure, Ichigo trailed kisses up to her ear. There, he nibbled on her lobe before breathily murmuring "Rukia." When he applied pressure to her swelling jewel, she arched back, and a wave of spasmodic contractions overtook her as she cried out into the night. Her convulsions dressed his intruding digits in her dew.

Catching her breath and slowing her speeding heartbeat, Rukia's eyes met Ichigo's in wonder and anticipation. What was that, and would she experience it again? Now that she was prepared, Ichigo removed his remaining barrier to full flesh contact and positioned himself to join their bodies more intimately. Brushing her matted hair from between her eyes, Ichigo's lips formed a tender smile. It was a silent askance.

He looked into the indigo windows to her soul, and he could swear that he saw it. In the darkness, he still could see, shining right back at him, that which was so absent from his life. Trust. Absolute, pure, unadulterated trust. Though her eyes, the disheartened protector once again could fashion himself as a hero. In her expression of faith and conviction, Ichigo had reached a crossroads. If he took one more step forward, he was entering new territory. Unbeknownst to him, Ichigo already was discerning that this entrusting beauty beneath him was no longer some cheap fuck to get himself off; she was real. If he continued, he would not be able to walk away without consequence.

He made his decision.

It hurt. The pressure was unexpected and more than uncomfortable. Rukia tensed against his invasion. Just as she had described to Nanao and Yoruichi, she shut her eyes against the pain. However, the image in her mind was not at all what she expected it to be. Instead of the unknown hero in her movie, all she saw was Ichigo: he was holding her. For the first time since her final visit to the Shibas, Rukia felt safe. The movie playing in her mind was the two of them forever in each others' embrace. Whether the gasp that sounded from her was due to this revelation or the pleasure she was beginning to feel was unknown to Rukia, but whatever it was, she wanted it to continue.

When Rukia tensed and winced, Ichigo immediately stilled, afraid he was hurting her. Placing soft, feathery kisses across her painfully-scrunched face, stroking her sides, and whispering, "Shhh…it's alright. Just relax," in her ear, Ichigo did everything in his power to make her more comfortable and to adjust to his size. Squeezing his own eyes closed in concentration, the seconds he had to still in her tight sheath was torturous for him. But a good lover always should ensure the comfort of his partner. _What?_ His eyes snapped open. Before he fully processed the awareness that there something more between them, Ichigo felt Rukia's hips buck forward to meet his. He would need to carefully consider this cognizance later. For now, if she was ready, he was all systems go.

Unlike past experiences with the Seireitei's working girls, Ichigo felt present in this moment. All attention was focused on the angel before him, glistening with sweat under the moon's beams. He buried himself in her, and a slow, steady tempo built between them. Ichigo was relishing the tight clinching of her womanhood as well as the transformation of Rukia's whimpers and winces into sultry moans. They allowed the depth of the passion, the depth of the trust to guide them in this expressive dance.

Time held its breath as both neared the fulfillment of their physical and spiritual needs. A final push sent both of them over the edge, crying out each others' names into the stillness of night. Their bodies shaking in the throes of perfect gratification, fully enveloped in one another as instinct took control. Moon and Sun shining brightly in a shared place in the sky.

After their mutual climaxes subsided, Rukia snuggled into her savior's hot, drenched chest, and he held to that glowing, delicate butterfly as if she would suddenly fly away. In that moment between the dead of night and the onset of the presently concealed dawn, their bodies and souls curled and intertwined, hearts beating as one, as if each half joined together to form a perfect circle. Darkness now filled the dingy room, but in their dreams, they clearly saw only the other.


End file.
